


Romancing the Darkness

by Enterthetadpole



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Control Issues, Demonic Possession, Depression, Drinking to Cope, Explicit Sexual Content, Hate Sex, Jekyll and Hyde, M/M, Magic and Science, Mental Health Issues, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Schizophrenia, Science Boyfriends, Secrets, alternate personalities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enterthetadpole/pseuds/Enterthetadpole
Summary: When scientists Mark and Sean stumble across a new formula that allows your inner rage and passion to be unleashed, they realize how hard it truly is to control your darker side.Especially when you start to fall in love with it...





	1. Chapter 1

The ticking clock on the dull white walls did little to calm his anxiety. He despised this office, and more so the reason that he was here in the first place, sitting in this leather chair that stuck to his sweaty skin everytime he moved. It was just a follow-up visit, to see how he was doing after his recent regimen change, but that feeling of paranoia never seemed to dissipate. They were all looking at him. Judging him. Whispering behind his back. No amount of medication could ever stop that annoying voice in the back of his mind from chiming in at the worth possible time, but it did quiet down a few of his nastier symptoms, like the manic episodes that kept him up for days on end. In comparison to everything else he's experienced; the fits of paranoid rage, the hallucinations, blind accusations that his reality is all a lie, that little bit of breakthrough anxiety wasn't all that bad.

He sat there, bouncing his leg as the clock ticked on, wondering how much longer Dr. Patrick would be. He was usually never this late for an appointment.

_Tick..._

_Tock..._

His heart was beginning to pound, filling his ears with the sound of his own blood rushing. Maybe something terrible happened to him? What if he was in an accident and no one knew about it? Fuck. He'd just be lying there on the pavement, bleeding out while the world continued to spin without him. What if-,

The sound of the door swinging open suddenly stopped that voice from continuing its little delusion of death, and he sighed with relief when his blue eyes met the calming hazel of Dr.Patrick's. Thank God he's alright.

"So sorry I'm late, Sean. I was held up by another client," the doctor said with a smile, noticing Sean's tense posture as he sat in the chair across from his desk. "I do hope that I didn't worry you."

"Not at all, Doc. It was only fifteen minutes."

Dr. Patrick furrowed his brow for only a moment or two, then relaxed his face into an expression as blank as he could manage. He's known Sean for too many years to believe that his anxiety wasn't acting up from his tardiness, but he also knew that this was just the way the small man coped.

The doctor sat down in his usual spot and waited for Sean to speak first. It was the same routine every week for the past two and a half years. Sean would tell him that the voices were demanding for him to give in to his urges, to punch the lady at the grocery store that cut in front of him in line, that the mailman that couldn't say his last name correctly needed to be punished, or that the medication was working enough to keep him from committing a felony, but just barely.

The conversation would then float to his boyfriend Mark, who was obviously worried. Asking him questions that he didn't want him to have answers to at all. Followed by an uncomfortable silence before Dr. Patrick would as if Sean would at least consider having Mark sit in on one of their sessions. Each time his blue eyes looked up, horrified by the very idea. The excuses as to why were the only change in their routine, and then a few calming exercises would settle down the voices before he left.

Mark really needed to know how much Sean was regressing in his current therapy, but Dr.Patrick couldn't do shit when it came to that. He was bound by the laws of confidentiality, and if Sean didn't want Mark to know that he was schizophrenic then he had to respect that. The only exception to that would be if Sean was an immediate danger to himself or others, which he wasn't. At least in Dr.Patrick's opinion, he wasn't. Sean had neglected to tell him about the barrage of suicidal ideations that frequently passed through his mind. Like in the morning when he was shaving, pressing the straight razor against his Adam's apple like the voices commanded him to do. He felt like a puppet, staring at himself in the mirror with this blank expression. All it would take is a quick drawback of his arm and it would all be over.  But Mark would be devastated, and that thought was the only thing that stayed his trembling hand. He was so sick, and no one but him knew just how bad it really was.

"So, Sean, how was your trip with Mark? I believe you mentioned that he was taking you to a bed and breakfast for your first anniversary."

Sean robotically nodded, putting on his mask of contentment once again as he answered the doctor's question.

"It was nice. Mark and I have been working very hard recently, and it was refreshing to take some time and just breathe."

"That's wonderful, Sean. I know how hard you've been working lately, and it's good for you to take some time off. Perhaps it could even help with your research. Sometimes we just need to take a step back and clear our minds for the answers we seek to show themselves."

The Irishman gave another robotic nod, trying his best to add in a small smile. As much as he wanted to tell Dr. Patrick what was going on inside his troubled mind, he couldn't. Sean wasn't naive to the keywords and phrases he needed to steer clear from to stop the doctor from making an appropriate phone call or recommendation.

Sean was able to figure this out on his own. Getting Mark involved would just make the already pressing walls close in even tighter around him. He adored Mark, but he was suffocating, forced to lie whenever Mark asked if he was okay. He needed a lover. Not another parent. 

The session with Dr.Patrick ended shortly after, with yet another pill added to his already staggering amount of prescribed medications. It wouldn't help. Nothing ever did. But he'd continue to lie for the sake of keeping his partner in the dark, and a with a weary sigh, Sean slipped on his metaphorical mask and drove home to Mark.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Sean arrived home, Mark was awake and heading out towards his car. He wasn't home much, and the fact that they shared this house as a means to continue their research rather than out of love only seemed to exacerbate Sean's condition. Sean could already hear the voices whispering, telling him that Mark only tolerated him for a roof over his head and a place to bury his cock on the off chance that they actually made love. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't true. Mark loved him very much, he just didn't show it very often. What Sean didn't know was that Mark was battling some pretty nasty demons of his own. He suffered from bouts of insomnia as well as some pretty severe control issues, often masking how he felt with long hours of work so he wouldn't have to face the fact that there was something wrong with him.

Sean has only seen him at his worst on one occasion, and the memory of it still plagues him to this day. He'd been awake for four days straight, staring at the wall and spouting nonsense about things no one could understand. When Sean approached him to ask if he'd come home to rest, Mark became agitated and hostile, lashing out about how he was in control of his life and basically told Sean to go fuck himself. Sean claims he doesn't recall the incident, but Mark knows he does. He'd never lay a finger on Sean or try to hurt him, but that day he came so close to snapping that it scared the ever-living shit out of him. He's tried to remedy things since then with medication to help him sleep, afraid that Sean will leave him if another episode happens. They've been scientific partners for almost three years, and a couple for one, but Mark isn't taking any chances. He can't afford to lose Sean.

Their eyes met for the fleetest of moments, with both of them wanting to say something meaningful to the other, but having no idea where to begin or end. The normal pleasantries tasted plastic in their mouths, and anything stronger was too painful to rip open.

"I'll be at the lab if you need me," Mark finally managed.

Jack gave the slightest nod of his head before continuing into the house. He could feel the weight of Mark wanting to say more, and his feet were conflicted at what speed to move.

"How was your visit with Dr. Patrick?"

The tone was one of an almost forced casualness that made Jack want to cry. These were the times more than all others that had him wanting to scream that he was barely hanging onto what was left of his sanity. That they needed more time together, to hold each other instead of the edges of dusty books.

"Fine," he replied. "Just talked, like usual."

"That was it? You just talked?" Mark asked incredulously, the slightest air of annoyance in his voice. 

"Well, yeah, Mark. That's what a Psychiatrist does. They talk to their patients."

"I really wish you wouldn't lie straight to my face. It's insulting, Sean."

"I'm not ly-"

"I'll see you later tonight. Don't wait up." Mark snapped, cutting Sean off as he climbed into his car and slammed the door shut. Sean was left standing in the driveway, staring at the tail lights of Mark's car as he disappeared down the road.

These visits have been going on for the better part of two and a half years, and Sean has never once divulged what actually went on in that office. He's seen the empty pill bottles with the label torn off, noticing that each one contained a different type of pill. Sean claims it's for his anxiety, but Mark knew better than to believe it. Sean does a good job of hiding things from him, and he can't even begin to try and help when the second he brings it up a fight breaks out. Sean obviously doesn't want to talk about what's bothering him, but the lack of answers is beginning to drive Mark crazy. He has to know what's going on, needs to control it like he controls everything else in his life, but Sean won't open up.

He's only a couple blocks away from the house when it starts to happen again. First, his vision begins to blur and his right hand begins to shake. Mark has no idea where these tremors are coming from but he kept them to himself. If Sean can have secrets, then fuck it, so can he. As quickly as he can he pulls over to the side of the road and takes deep and steady breaths. Whatever this is only lasts for a minute or two at the most. But once he's at the lab there was that bottle of brandy there to take the edge off of his nerves as well. Then he'll work until his muscles ached and the thoughts of Sean's lies were worn away with new study results.

Maybe tonight after the liquor relaxed him, and Sean had time to have a nice quiet dinner they could spend some time together. They could act like something more than just strangers sleeping on the same cold mattress. It was nice to picture, reflecting back to a time when love overpowered their vices. But things were different now because they let it all fall apart. 

Mark stared at the brightly lit computer screen, becoming frustrated when the data showed him the same damn results he'd received over and over again. He knows he's close. Even though the results show that the synthetic gene used in their formula caused a few undesirable traits to heighten, the positive aspects vastly overpowered any negative consequences that might occur. The higher-ups believe that the formula isn't ready for human trials, and want to take the research data that Mark and Sean have been pouring themselves into back to basics. But Mark knows that to be a mistake. He just needs to find someone to test it on.

  

 


	3. Chapter 3

The harsh fluorescent lights that illuminated the small lab did little to ease the pounding in Mark's head. He'd been staring at his computer screen for the past hour, watching the data results display the same information that it had the last time he ran it through the system. The formula was still a bit unstable, and no matter how hard he tried to cause a lasting reaction, the results would only last a few hours before dissipating. He knows he's on to something big. He can feel it in his bones. He just can't find the missing key that will unlock the formula's true potential.

The performance aid is genetically modified to enhance the subjects positive traits, giving them more strength and speed and allowing their bodies to heal quicker. The problem lies with where the synthetic proteins attach to the genetic material. Some subjects possess genetic markers for violent and unstable behavior, and the formula seems to enhance those traits along with increasing their strength, speed, and wound recovery time. For some, it makes them superhuman, but for others, it turns them into monsters.

But the chance of a normal, healthy individual becoming a deranged psychopath after taking the elixir is unlikely in Mark's mind. He's seen enough to know that if the person is generally good, the outcome will be as well. Now, that's not to say that if you gave a convicted murderer the same elixir that it wouldn't enhance those violent tendencies to a disturbing degree. The subjects just have to go through an extensive screening process before they undergo testing.

Mark heaved a weary sigh, glancing down at his watch to see that it was half past four in the morning. So much for them having an evening together. Sean was most likely upset with him again, having noticed the distinct lack of phone calls and texts that normally filled up his notifications. Sean was closing himself off, resorting to the silent treatment to fix all of their problems. 

Mark stood up from his chair, stretching and popping a few joints in the process. These long nights are wreaking havoc on his body as well as his mind, and he was almost positive that his relationship with Sean was hanging on by a thread at this point. He should go home and at least try to fix things with him before they had to work in the same cramped lab space surrounded by sharp objects and corrosive chemicals. Maybe a coffee would suffice as a peace offering? Mark didn't know half as much as he should about Sean, but he did know that his partner was a certified coffee junkie. 

He could see his face now, eyes red and puffy from a mixture of tears and a sleepless night. They had to find a way to fix this mess between them, or it would actually kill Sean. He's fragile enough as it is, and Mark's cold and absent nature isn't helping things at all. If only he had a way to mend their broken minds, then maybe they could actually have a chance to live a happy life.

On the other end of the world, or so it seemed, Sean is sitting cross-legged on the bed. His dinner is barely touched next to him, and the blade of the knife in his curled fingers is pressed against his exposed forearm. He hasn’t done anything yet, but it’s not due to lack of desire. Sean doesn’t want to die. That would break Mark into pieces that could never be put back together. The vision of his lover standing over him, calculating how much blood he actually lost would be racing through his mind while he tried to call for an ambulance. He could see Mark kneeling beside him, trying to grasp onto something to cope while he stared into those empty blue eyes.

He didn’t want to die, but he wanted it to stop. The voices in his head were not so painful when they screamed. Those angry suggestions to hurt and maim were illogical and completely terrifying. But it was the whispers to turn into oncoming traffic when he was driving anywhere or the murmurs to keep scrubbing his skin until the filth of what he was went down the shower drain that pushed him closer to do the unthinkable.

The knife shook in his hands, and he glanced at the wall clock again. Ten more minutes had passed and still, he sat there, unmoving and numb. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of theory and methods as to which way would be quicker, or that maybe just a cut or twenty would be enough to place the taunting shadows of his lurching brain into boxes.

He wanted to just have a day with just himself, and not be just a roommate in the house of his mind. To shut them all out or, maybe, just release them and let the slime of who his is just dissolve completely.

_Ten more minutes. Just wait ten more minutes before you decide._

The phone vibrated on the end table, twisting Sean out of his disturbing mental loop. It was most likely Mark. No one else would be calling this late. His trembling hand released the handle of the knife tentatively, as if it were the only lifeline he had, and then pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Sean,” came the softer baritone voice that he cherished so much more than what left him that afternoon. “I’m heading home. Can we talk about...everything?”

“Y-yeah,” Sean replied, the corners of his mouth aching from the actual smile that spread across his chapped lips. “Talking is good. I want to talk too.”

Mark sounded like a mix between apologetic and exhausted as the short conversation ended, leaving Sean in a strange place when it came to where he stood with Mark. Perhaps this was the end? God only knows how much they've struggled to coexist as a couple. Mark wasn't the type to just leave when things became tough. But Sean was.


	4. Chapter 4

The drive home was eerily silent, and Mark tried to ignore the slight tremble in his hands as he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. He hoped that Sean would be open to what he was about to suggest, but the fact that he had little to no control over how this was going to play out was causing him to become jittery. He had a backup plan, of course. But the thought of lying to Sean and practically drugging him to get what he wanted left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't want to resort to such brash tactics, but he had a good feeling that this elixir would be the answer to their prayers. Sean's illness, whatever that entailed, would be no more, and Mark would finally be free from his own demons that he harbored inside of his nearly dead soul.

Sean was all he had left to protect in this vile world, and he wasn't about to let him get away without putting up a fight. He loved this man with every fiber of his being, even though he seldom showed it. He knew that Sean had abandonment issues from his childhood, as well as problems with intimacy, courtesy of his wretched step-father, and he wished that he could just wave a magic wand and make it all disappear. But things like that tended to fester in one's soul, rotting them away until there was nothing left to save. Perhaps that was what Sean meant when he said that those pills were for his anxiety. Maybe his past was slowly smothering him, and Sean was trying his best to fight for air. It made sense to Mark, but he had no clue that Sean's mind was filled with the cruelest words, and that every night he'd cry himself to sleep, listening to the constant voice of self-loathing that looped on repeat until the break of dawn's early light.

The car pulled into the driveway, and Mark grit his teeth when the tremor in his hands crawled up his arms. The anxiety he felt from this forced confrontation was almost debilitating, but he knew that the feeling would soon morph into anger if things didn't go his way. He didn't want to think about Sean trying to leave, because that would only exacerbate the problem. He needed to take slow, steady breaths in order to calm the tremble in his limbs, and he sighed as the shaking dulled to a slight twitch that ran up to his right eye. It would dissipate soon, but Sean always seemed to know whenever he was on the verge of having another psychotic break. His sleep schedule was completely fucked, and Mark was running on fumes as it is. It wouldn't take much to cause him to snap like he did last time. 

Luckily for him, he'd managed to sneak two vials of the formula out with him, and he was going to cure these ailments once and for all. He just hoped that Sean would agree with his course of action, or else he'd force him to.

He would be careful with his words, and even though he was angry with his partner, he would listen to everything that Sean wanted to say. Opening the front door and walking inside, he already felt like it was far too quiet. The kitchen had an abandoned quality to it that caused his chest to constrict. Even when they were at their worst, Sean would always eat at least something small at night, often leaving a mess behind.

Mark moved slowly through the unlit house to the only bit of brightness coming from a cracked bedroom door. There was music playing, and it took a moment for him to realize the song.

 _You see, I want the world to believe_  
_That there's a light inside of me_  
_But it's time that I come clean_  
_I'm not what I seem, no_

It carried such a slow and haunting melody, and Mark began to worry when he couldn't hear any movement from the bedroom. Sean never listened to music like this unless he was feeling particularly vulnerable.

“Sean,” Mark called out, but his voice was no match for the melody that echoed through the ghostly house.

 _Some would say I'm possessed, yeah_  
_But I'll confess I've just been obsessed_  
_With life and death and emptiness, I guess_  
_Can't you see all of the change in me?_

Mark moved quicker, his heart beating as he finds the doorway almost glaring out of his reach. The lyrics are too close to what those blue eyes have been begging him to see for far too long. Sean is desperately hanging on by a thread, and he's seconds away from letting go.

 _You took these starving limbs, tried to see_  
_Tried to see what they could be_  
_But I thought I'd be something_  
_I thought you'd complete me_

 _That you'd erase all the pain that I felt in my brain_  
_If you filled my heart with love_  
_Then you'd fill my voids above_  
_Now you see, that didn't change a thing._

“Sean,” he whispered again, but this time his voice was too soft to be heard. His eyes were transfixed on the man he loved lying on their bedroom floor, looking up towards the ceiling with this blank expression. The steak knife was off to the side, stained a disturbing shade of scarlet.

He was still alive, tears falling almost as an afterthought as Mark pulled him roughly into a sitting position, clutching at Sean's neck to stop the flow of blood. His pale lips curled into a relieved smile as his reddened eyes drifted to Mark's.

“Hey,” Sean rasped with a rough and broken voice, reaching his hand up to push away the tears from his lover’s cheeks. “Please don’t cry. I just wanted the pain to go away. I feel a little better now. We can still talk. I just needed to do something to take the pain away.”


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh my God, Sean, what have you done to yourself?!" Mark sobbed, pressing his hand against the cut that ran across the width of his lover's throat. Just from the feel of it, Mark could determine that the wound was not deep enough to kill Sean, but he would have a nasty scar for the rest of his life because of it. The blood seeped in between Mark's trembling fingers, running down his arms and dripping into thick pools of sticky crimson on the floor. The music playing in the background was a blur, as was pretty much everything else that was happening right now. All he could think about was burying Sean in some cemetery like he did with his father a few years ago.

He'd lost his father to suicide on his eighteenth birthday, and he's blamed himself for it ever since. But he'll be damned if he was going to lose Sean like that as well.

"I can't stop the bleeding," Mark murmured, panicking when Sean began to turn a sickly shade of pale. What the fuck should he do? Does he call 911? Sean would hate him if they ended up locking him away in a psych unit over this. He would never forgive Mark for such a betrayal. 

Thinking quickly, Mark pulled off his shirt with his free hand, pressing it across the cut on Sean's neck and holding pressure to it. Sean's eyes were heavy, but he was looking at Mark with such confusion. Why was he crying? Couldn't he see how much better he felt?

"Come on, come on..." Mark whispered, watching his white shirt slowly fill with blood, but the flow was quickly coming to a stop. Once he was able to stabilize Sean, he could give him the elixir to help the wound to heal faster, as well as cure Sean of whatever demon made him do such a thing.

"Mark?" Sean rasped, raising his hand up to cup his partner's cheek, smearing a bit of his own blood across his skin."You're so sad, baby. Why are you crying?"

Even Sean's fingertips were slightly cold to the touch, and Mark began to count backward in his head from twenty to zero. He needed to stay calm and focus on stopping the blood draining away from Sean's throat. It was so hard to stop crying once he had started, but he needed to be Sean's rock. He needed to push away the desire to scream and curse at the man in his arms. Once they drank the formula and mended, then they would talk about this. Everything would be better once they were whole. Maybe they would even look at this moment as the death of so much anger and sorrow and the birth of who they were meant to be on the inside.

"I'm not sad, baby," Mark murmured, looking straight into those glassy blue eyes. "Just got worried about you. You..you know me. Always overreacting to every little thing, huh?"

His heart was beating so fast that Mark was sure that it would give away his lie, but found himself relaxing at the small giggle that escaped from Sean's lips.

"Yeah, you do worry about me a lot," Sean cooed, tilting his head slightly to place it on Mark's left shoulder.

The music finally stopped, and except for Mark's deep breaths in and out to keep himself calm, and the soft humming from Sean, there was nothing but silence. Mark finally felt that it was safe to pull the now scarlet and wet shirt away from Sean's neck. He winced at how precise the cut was. The message of how desperate Sean had become would be etched in scar tissue for the rest of his life.

"I'm going to get us something that will help, okay?" Mark sighed, making sure that Sean understood every word of what he had said. "I need you to just stay right here until I get back. Can you do that for me, baby?"

Sean blinked, and slowly nodded his head.

"It will help _both_  of us?" he asked as Mark got up, and Mark felt his heart race again at the hopeful tone within his partner's Irish accent.

"Yes," Mark replied, taking a hold of his lover's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's for both of us."

Mark rose to his feet, carefully lying Sean back across their bed. He was fighting like hell to remain calm and collected so Sean wouldn't see how much he was panicking right now. What if the elixir didn't work? What if Sean died from this? The time for questions was long past, and Mark made a conscious decision to follow through with his plan no matter the outcome. He couldn't just stand there and do nothing anymore.

Mark pressed a gentle kiss to Sean's forehead, turning on his heel and quickly leaving the room. He needed to grab some bandages from the first aid kit in the bathroom first before he did anything else. The bleeding had slowed down enough that a few layers of gauze would be able to keep the wound from gushing anymore than it already had. Mark stepped into the bathroom, flipping on the light and freezing once his eyes finally met his own reflection.

He had Sean's blood drying on his cheek, smeared into his stubble by pale fingertips. His eyelids were slightly swollen, sclera red from crying. He looked like shit, but it reflected just how broken he felt inside his head. Had he really been / _that_ / blind? Sean was so much worse than ever could have imagined, and he very well could have lost him tonight. If he was five minutes later getting home, this could have taken a different turn. Sean needed him tonight, and Mark failed him. Again. 

But the buck stops here and now. For too long he's been parched of love and unable to quench it. This vicious pattern of Sean feeling too much and Mark too little ends now. Sean would never have to face another night like this again. He'd make sure of it.


	6. Chapter 6

Mark's hands were shaking as he dressed Sean's wound, only able to picture what could have happened if he'd been too late this time. How long had Sean been dealing with suicidal ideations? He knew that his partner had been suffering lately, but the extent of Sean's illness was hidden from him. Mostly due to the fact that Sean didn't want to be viewed as a burden. He was always worried about Mark and how his partner was doing, often neglecting himself in the process. But this time, it caught up to him, and Sean collapsed under the weight of his own mind.

"When did I get so pitiful?" Sean rasped, staring at nothing in particular. He'd been eerily quiet since Mark found him lying in a pool of his own blood on their bedroom floor, and he wasn't sure if Sean was just numb to what was happening right now or if he just didn't have any energy left in him to fight. "I'm just a god damn corpse, walking around without a soul."

"Don't say things like that, Sean," Mark responded, pausing for a moment as he glanced up to meet Sean's dead eyes. He really did look like a walking, talking corpse, and perhaps that was what scared Mark the most. Sean's inner turmoil was starting to affect his outer appearance, and Mark winced as he noticed the deep purple bags that framed Sean's dull blue eyes. He used to look so vibrant and full of life, which is what drew Mark in at first. But now, he's literally just moving for the sake of motion. There's no meaning behind it, no purpose. It's merely a learned behavior, and Sean can't force himself to drag his feet anymore. He's stuck. Immovable. But not for long.

"Why not? It's true, Mark. Just look at me. I'm the epitome of worthlessness."

"No, you're not. You're not thinking clearly, alright? This isn't you."

Sean couldn't even meet Mark's eyes as he finished bandaging up his neck. The voices were only quiet for a moment, and that was when he was bleeding out on the floor. But they were back, angry that Sean had failed such a simple task. He should have been dead already, finally at peace with himself. But no, he was still alive because the thought of leaving Mark behind to find his body was far too much for him to take. He hesitated, only making the slash across his neck superficial at best.

"You're pathetic..." They said, each voice echoing in a delayed manner, giving it a disturbing quality that made Sean's skin crawl.

_"He can't even look at you, Sean. You're a burden to him..."_

"Sh-shut up." Sean quietly bit back, furrowing his brow as he tried to silence them. Of course, Mark assumed that Sean was speaking to him.

The other man frowned softly as he focused his brown eyes back on his lover's neck. The need to ask if all of those long nights where he left Sean alone to fight his demons were what drove him to this point was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back into his empty belly. There would be time for those type of questions later. After the elixir was taken and it began to fill in the cracks of Sean's broken spirit. But what would be the best way to get him to drink it?

The potion was clear and tasteless by design. The dilemma inside of Mark's head wasn't if he should tell Sean his plan. That answer was a firm hell no. He would only echo the caution from their superiors that additional research and testing would be needed before anyone started human trials. Mark would always bend to his will, and they would go through more unneeded stalling before they would finally start moving again. Wasn't tonight just further fucking proof that Sean needed help now? 

"Mark, why do they hate me so much?" Sean whispered. "They are so loud and hateful. Why can't they just let me be?"

"I...I don't know, baby, but remember how I said that I'm going to get us both help? I have an idea, but...I need you to trust me, okay? Can you try to do that?"

Sean's smile is back, though his eyes are still so faded. It's as if he's barely hanging on, desperate for any source of comfort. Mark watched as his lover breathes, and again he thinks about if he had just been a few minutes later than he was, Sean would be gone. There would be nothing left for him to fight for if Sean hadn't hesitated and really had wanted to embrace the darkness forever. 

"Of course I trust you," he said, finally, reaching up to touch Mark's cheek. "I love you, Mark. I'll always love you, no matter what they tell me.”

Mark's hand caressed Sean's, interlacing their fingers. It takes every once of strength for Mark to keep himself together, but he's just able to hold the tears back until he pulls away and heads towards the kitchen. A drink to put the formula in would be best, and Sean, no matter how bad his day was, always has a cup of something warm before he goes to sleep. 

Mark moved quickly as he entered the kitchen. Even though there are no sharp items around his partner, he understands what people can do when they are desperate and want to escape. His father hadn't needed much to stop the pain almost a decade ago, and he wasn't going to lose someone else that he loved to suicide. 

Once the coffee was made and placed into one of Sean's favorite cups, the elixir was added and seamlessly blended into it. Then, just to keep the appearance as normal as possible, Mark made a second cup for himself, with the second half of the elixir swallowed up inside the dark brew. 

"You...made us coffee?" Sean quarried when Mark came back and carefully sat back down on the bed.

"Yes," Mark replied, trying his best to keep his tone light and casual. "It's been months since we just sat and talked. I thought that a nice cup of coffee would help. I have a few ideas that could help us get better. We can talk about them after we drink. Is...is that alright?"

Sean smiled as he sat up straight and brought the mug up to his lips, taking a drink and swallowing. Mark sighed softly as he watched the shattered parts of his lover for the last time, then once he was sure that Sean was on the last few sips, Mark gulped down his own healing remedy with a hopeful heart.


	7. Chapter 7

It took maybe a minute or two for Mark to finish his own cup of coffee, curiously watching Sean as he shifted on the bed. He didn't see any changes in the other, nor did he really feel anything happening within himself. Perhaps he miscalculated the dose or maybe the elixir was a complete dud and Mark was just wrong about everything. It was a possibility that he'd considered, but the research data doesn't lie. The formula works. He just had to give it some time. But he couldn't help but become a tad bit impatient to see some sort of change. It was the only option they had left, besides splitting up, which wasn't even on Mark's list of possible solutions to their problems.

"So, what were you wanting to talk about?" Sean said, staring up at Mark with a slightly nervous expression. "We haven't really done this sort of thing in quite a while, and I honestly don't know what to expect. I suppose I'm in some sort of trouble for doing what I did, huh?"

Mark pursed his lips, suddenly feeling a little irritated by what Sean was implying. Did he really expect that Mark would "punish" him for attempting suicide? Is that the kind of person he comes across as? Truth be told, it was a little insulting towards Mark, but now wasn't the time for anger and hurt feelings. He had to show Sean that he meant so much more to him than he had ever previously portrayed. Mark could have prevented this from happening if he was just around more often, maybe even told Sean that he gave a damn about him occasionally instead of just assuming that he already knew how Mark felt about him. He obviously didn't. So, logic would dictate that Mark had failed Sean in that regard as well. 

"What?" He snapped, recognizing that his tone of voice was a hell of a lot harsher than he meant it to be. He was just having a difficult time reeling himself back for some reason. "Sean, You're not in trouble for trying to kill yourself. I'm worried about you. How long have you been hiding this from me? How long have you been suffering in silence?"

"Oh, so now you care?" Sean softly snapped back, dropping his gaze down to the blanket he was anxiously picking at. "Who would have guessed that it would take me putting a steak knife to my fucking throat to get you to be attentive. If I had known that, I would have tried this a lot sooner. But hey, at least you're home and actually talking to me for once."

"Excuse me? I care about you a lot more than you realize, Sean. Why else am I here right now?"

"Well, you have a great fucking way of showing it! I've been alone in this God damn relationship for a fucking year, Mark! I've been suicidal the entire time you've known me, and you never even noticed that I was screaming at you for help! I needed love and affection, and you shunned me. The only reason I didn't go through with it this time was that I couldn't bear the thought of having you be the one to find my dead body. I hesitated because of you, and I wish to God that I hadn't. Nothing is ever going to change!" 

Mark bristled like a cobra at those words, wanting to strike now more than ever. Sean's eyes were shining brightly at him, with almost a shimmer against the paleness of his skin. Those soft lips that Mark loved to kiss were forming a menacing scowl. It was hard for him to imagine that the angry man sitting on the bed next to him was the same one falling to pieces on the floor of their home just hours before. There was an intensity that Mark had never seen before, and it rubbed him in a way that made his skin tingle and itch.

“There’s nothing left that I can do to show you how desperate I am,”  Sean continued. He had waited months to feel this type of bravery to tell Mark how things truly were, and he was enjoying every crease of anger that appeared on Mark's face. "You’re worse than all of those voices in my fucked up mind, but at least they don't pretend to give a damn about - ”

The slap happened before Mark could even register what he had done. The way that Sean’s neck twisted from the force of the blow was haunting. His cheek reddened right before Mark’s eyes, but the sneer on his bloodied lips was almost terrifying to witness.

“Did I hit a nerve, Mark?” Sean chuckled deep in his throat. “Well, isn’t that just precious. You try to fucking hurt the one you claim to love so damn much.”

Sean had never seen him so worked up, even during the one and only time he was ever afraid of Mark. The Eurasian tried to calm himself, but he couldn't stop his hand from lashing out once again, connecting with Sean's bruising cheek.

Mark had hit him again...hard.

“You need to shut up about things you know nothing about,” Mark sneered. “I love you more than you’ll ever comprehend, Sean. I don’t want to slap the filthy words out of your mouth again, but I will if you push me.”

There was a giggle that punctured the air around them as they stared at each other. It escaped Sean’s lips like a gunshot aimed at Mark’s rib cage. That laugh only had fleeting notes of Sean’s normal tone, but this one was so much more powerful.  

“But, I like to push,” Sean purred, sitting up on his knees as he leaned closer to gaze into Mark's eyes, which had turned black from the way his pupils were dilated.

“Let’s try another shove to the edge,” Sean whispered, now only inches from Mark’s barely controlled form. “How did it feel when you found your daddy’s body Mark? Were you too upset to eat your birthday cake, baby? Tell me everything about that day.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Mark clenched his jaw tightly, teeth grinding as raw, unfiltered rage began to rise up in his chest. He's been angry with Sean before. That's nothing new. But the aggressive thoughts that filtered into his mind were. He wanted to sink his teeth into the wound on Sean's neck, tear it open and watch him choke on his own blood as he gasped for air. His hands were clenched into fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms. He was still able to hold himself back from really hurting Sean like he wanted to, but just barely.

It was terrifying to feel these emotions, to have those sickening thoughts in his head. But Mark wasn't afraid of what was happening to himself. He was afraid of what he would do to Sean if he kept pressing him, taunting him in that mocking tone of voice. It was like sandpaper grating on his nerves, wearing him down until he snapped and actually tried to permanently shut him up.

"How did you find him again?" Sean mused, crawling into Mark's lap and wrapping his arms around his partner's neck in a parody of affection. "Slumped over at the kitchen table, half of his face missing from the shotgun blast? Fuck, I bet you knew that he would put that gun in his mouth, but just chose not to do a damn thing about it, hm?"

Mark was audibly growling, narrowing his eyes at Sean. The sound that bubbled up from his chest would have been enough to frighten away even the fiercest predator, but it only seemed to excited Sean all the more. He loved the reaction he was getting from Mark, and he wanted to see just how far he could push until Mark finally put him in his place. He's already hit Sean twice, bruising his cheek and splitting his lip from the blows, but that wasn't enough to satisfy either of them.

Mark's trembling hand shot up to wrap around Sean's bleeding throat, squeezing his airway shut with little to no effort at all.

"Sean, if you don't stop talking, I'll have no choice but to finish the job you failed to complete." Mark hissed through clenched teeth, trying to stop himself from snapping his partner's scrawny neck. But Sean couldn't stop, even though he knew that Mark wasn't bluffing.

"So, that's all it takes to ruffle your feathers? Jus' gotta remind you that you were a failure back then, just like you are today. That must be so crippling to live with, knowing that you single-handedly drove two people to commit suicide." Sean choked out amongst his raspy giggling. This was all just a fucking game to him, wasn't it?

Mark snarled lowly, tightening his grip for a split second before he surprisingly let him go, shoving him back against the bed. He wasn't about to play into Sean's hands like this. He was going to throw him off his game by cutting off the reaction Sean seemed to crave from him.

He swiftly moved from the bed, watching the grin melt from Sean's lips as he turned to leave the room with a word. And just like he expected, Sean was up in a flash, flowing after Mark as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?! Running away from your problems again, Mark?"

"No, that would be cowardly," Mark replied, voice irritatingly calm as he shoved that volatile anger back down. "I'm simply stepping outside for a cigarette. But I wouldn't mind if you stayed back and actually tried to finish what you started. You did a piss poor job, Sean. The cut isn't even that deep. Perhaps if you gathered all of your wit, you could figure out how to properly do what's necessary. But then again, I won't hold my breath for that."

The slam behind him left both the door and Sean equally rattled. What the fuck was Mark doing? How dare he leave him alone after all they had just said and done. Part of Sean's mind had him reaching for another knife in the butcher's block on the kitchen counter. The desire to bleed again was almost too much, but this time it would be about showing Mark that he wasn't afraid of anything. He _wasn't_ fucking weak.

But something much sharper was pressing from the inside of his soul. The silence was frightening as Sean imagined his lover brooding on the front porch with the burning ember between his long fingers. Behind closed eyes, the feeling of that same strong hand clenching around his torn throat with so much passion and conviction was making Sean sway in an imagined breeze. He could almost see the pink edges in his vision while those black eyes stared back at him in a barely contained fury.

Sean wanted more of it. He _needed_ it. His pants were tightening at just the thought of getting Mark to touch him like that again.

Mark was outside taking shallow breaths in and out, counting back from 100. He wouldn't let himself be pushed like that again, and if treating Sean like a petulant child was the only way to protect him, then fuck it. That's exactly what he was going to do. The cigarette was already half gone as he continued to calm his nerves.

_75...74...73...72..._

The sound of glass breaking had Mark thrown, and he raced back inside. Thank god that he still had his shoes on, or Sean's wouldn't have been the only blood seeping its way into the wood of their floorboards.

Another picture was thrown at the wall and this time it barely missed Mark's head as he dived sideways. It took Mark a moment to realize that the faces in the shattered photos belonged to the two of them. Sean has never looked so determined in the three years that Mark at known him to destroy what they built, and he was going to do it one framed memory at a time.


	9. Chapter 9

Even now with everything that had happened tonight, Sean was finding another way to press Mark to the breaking point. That small sliver of where his anger always stood and peeked over the precipice of what all the darker thoughts in his shadowed mind could be. Another sheet of glass splits apart, and the smiling faces within its framed walls are battered and crumpled, but not yet completely destroyed.

The blue eyes were gleeful at the returned look of rage. This is what Sean wanted to see for so long. The hungry gaze of a lion surveying its next meal. Calculating if the prey was worth the effort of the hunt, and of so, how long to tease until he went for the final snap of the slender neck.

"What's a matter, baby?" Sean cooed. "Don't like me breaking all your little fantasies?"

The faintest twitch of the tanned fingers curling into a fist, then releasing is enough to have Sean's heart racing again. The subtle volley of power was now on his side of the net, and he planned on keeping control for a while this time. Mark's polished dress shoe crunched against what was left of the picture of the two of them at a business dinner, very soon after they went from colleagues to lovers. The tell tale way that Sean leaned into the shot, and Mark smiled up into what must have been a few drinks into an incredible evening.

"I have nothing to say to you," Mark hissed back, already looking for the best way back to their bedroom. "The floors you fucked up with your blood aren't going to clean themselves, so if you'll excuse me."

He grabbed at the first wash cloth that is able to be reached on the kitchen counter, and then moves without a backward glance to their bedroom. The roar of frustration isn't lost to Mark's ears, but enough is enough. Mark doesn't have the time to deal with Sean's temper tantrums. When he wants to act like an adult, he'll fucking treat him like an adult.

Sean is left again with only the voices. They are jeering him to search out other ways to prove his point about Mark not giving a damn. The blue eyes are darting in their mission, checking out every single relic of their life together that will finally make Mark strike him again. He licked his still swollen lip and the tingle was electric, and the memory replayed made the tightening in his groin feel normal. The pain made _him_  feel normal. Treasured.

Loved.

The blood had dried to make the clean up even the more challenged. Mark was bent over the stains, eyeglasses on the tip of his nose like surveying a crime scene. The only plan in his head was to just make this night go away. Just wait for the formula to settle in their bones and then talk to each other. Sean would need something for his face once he apologized for earlier.

"Mark?"

The tone was softer this time, and the blue gaze unsure. Slender fingers were twisting in the bottom of the collared shirt, and the head slightly down.

"What do you want?"

Sean moved slowly towards where the other man was. The steps were way to calculated to be anything but false. Mark was way too used to this song and dance by his lover. Candy coated apologies, but with bitter excuses near the center.

"Need you, is all," Sean muttered. "Just need you."

The bottom lip twitched into almost a smile. Mark felt it, and Sean absolutely saw it.

"I'm cleaning up your mess," Mark hissed, and the other man recoiled. "You are welcomed to help by dealing with whatever is salvageable in the kitchen."

He paused, satisfaction growing at Sean's change in mood. It wasn't full obedience, but it was just enough for Mark to see that perhaps the formula was starting to assist.

"I want to make new memories," Sean whispered, placing his hand at the delicate place where the bandage sat securely on his throat. "Can you do that for me, Mark? Make new moments that we can put in your silver cages behind walls of glass?"

Mark tilted his head at the metaphor, and the deep laugh that escaped his mouth was not his own. Sean could sense the tightening near his groin again.

"You get off being hurt now, don't you, baby?"

The question was way too revealing, and Sean was once more thrown by how easily his plans were shaken. Maybe that was part of the problem. He shouldn't plan out anything. Just do what he wants. Give in to the voices.

"I've always been into pain," Sean admitted, taking his right hand and unbuttoning his pants to release some of the tension building up. "You just never saw me as something lovely enough to be broken."

The relief of his groan intermingled with the breathy sigh from the other man's lips. Mark was standing up and clearly looking at him as if he finally saw him not as a child, but a man who was tough enough to be torn down from the inside out.

"Not lovely enough to be broken?" Mark mused. "I guess that I have to once more teach you how to keep your filthy lies to yourself."


	10. Chapter 10

   


When Sean was young and alone in his room, with nothing but the voices, he dreamed of feeling so much that it would overload his mind. He never cut himself. That would cause too many tears and screams from his mother and stepfather. Instead, he would make little graves for the bugs he would rip the wings off of on his daily walks. The markers made out of small pebbles and smooth stones. It gave his hands something to do, and the way the legs and antennae would twitch before they stilled was comforting in a way that he couldn't understand.

He needed more, and so as he grew so did the creatures. Frogs, lizards, and even a hapless snake who slithered too close to his feet were all twisted until they shattered. Graves became deeper and more elaborate, but Sean never adjusted his fingers. Even when the voices would beg him to shut up the god damned cat that meowed right outside of his window. The black and white fur shimmered in the moonlight, and the eyes, glittered in gold and calling him a coward.

It was only then that it occurred to him to keep the agony inside. To close each and every door until there was nothing but each angry thought left in the inky darkness. Back then it was easier to check for cracks in the armor.

Now there were so many holes and weak points, and now Sean stood asking -  _begging_ \- to be pushed down. To have someone else rip him apart so that he didn't have to do it himself. The dark brown eyes were narrowed as he slowly moved closer towards him, taking the time to linger on the unzipped pants and the slight trickle of blood at the corner of Sean's trembling lips.

"So eager to talk until your challenged," Mark mused. "Then suddenly you've got nothing at all to say."

The rumble of Mark's tone was what was causing Sean to shudder, and yet the itch to say something hurtful was still fluttering in the confines of his mind. Sex was always a way to get what he wanted. Why would now be any different even with both of them so ready? Maybe it would be even better. The voices might even cheer him on.

"Is your silence your way of apologizing for what you've done?"

The giggle was high pitched and foreign. It wasn't Sean's laugh, yet now it felt right.

Mark took another step. Measured and with purpose. Sean didn't move. Another step, and the giggle echoed out. More pronounced and determined as ever. Sean already knew that he was laying out breadcrumbs for his lover to follow. It wasn't as if Mark didn't enjoy plunging himself inside of his body. After an exhausting yet productive day in their shared office,  Mark could barely control the way he would begin to unfasten buttons on Sean's dress shirt once their front door had just been able to click itself shut from the outside world. 

And Sean was always ready for him.  _Always._ Even when the voices said that Mark only fucked him from behind because he couldn't stand to touch his face. When both of them would cry not only during, but after. When Mark's hands would begin to tremble as he slowly provided the aftercare that the curves of Sean's hips and thighs begged for. Those times were trapped in some distant cave, still waiting to be searched for. 

"I haven't done anything to be sorry for," Sean admitted, his mouth curving into an unnerving half smile. "But I'm willing to be punished anyway." 

There was a growl at the notion, and Sean giggled once more. It wasn't a matter of  _if_ Mark would charge at him and take what he wanted now. It was  _when_  he would, and for how long. Sean reached a pale hand up to his throat again, and felt at his wrappings. The desire to rip them off and to feel what he had done to himself was causing him to groan. His blue eyes closed at the sensation and within a moment a much stronger hand curled his fingers around as well. 

"Only I get to hurt you from now on," came a whisper. The grip tightened and a much louder groan escaped. "And the only voice that matters right now is mine. Do you understand me?"

Mark didn't wait for an answer. The indulgent swallow made by Sean's throat tingled, and then the palm pulled away and squeezed. The muscles of both men flexed and the waistband of pants pushed down. The slight hitch of breath was all that was needed for Mark to become unhinged, and Sean's fluttered moan was just enough to do it. 

_Just_   _enough_.


	11. Chapter 11

Mark was never a gentle lover.

It just wasn't how they connected. Sean knew this for more time than he admitted to. Even before they started fucking, because it wasn't  _making love_  by any romanticized understanding, Sean would see the way that Mark held on to things with an almost fierce internal focus. His muscled fingers gripping onto beakers and his own scratchy notes on antiquated sheets of paper just a little too tightly to be normal. Back then, Sean would let his mind wander to what his wrists and throat would feel like being touched in the same way. Not just held, but almost  _owned_.  The Mark from so long ago would be forceful and passionate. He would whisper filthy things into Sean's ear as he drove him into whatever surfaces they ended up. 

Tears were always part of their passion, and Sean needed it more than oxygen. He  _needed_ to feel as damaged on the outside.  _Needed_  it to match what was tearing him up inside. Even afterwards when Sean was being carefully massaged and apologized to by the deep, honey toned voice, he wondered why his flesh felt like fire long after the flames were gone.

This was years ago, and Sean knew this too. Years before their talks and touches became too much for either of them to bear, yet now the same hunger was in the brown eyes. The same lick of the lips that made Sean want to come on the spot, but there was more. Mark wanted to punish him past the climax, and Sean shuddered at how much that aroused every part of his soul. Mark was so close to him as his grip on his aching throat made his head spin. The shadow of darkness in his gaze finally close enough to the surface for Sean to grin back.

"On your knees,  _now._ "

Sean's body obeyed without even a moment of hesitation. The pain from his obedience shot up both of his legs as he hit the floor hard. He groaned with satisfaction. It was only then that Mark flexed his wrist in a way that Sean was able to look up. Sean groaned again. Mark was there, but he wasn't. The shell was definitely the one of the man that he had first began as hero worship because of his brilliance in the scientific field, and then as so much more once they stopped pretending that they didn't think about each other alone in their separate bedrooms. The waves of pleasure at the ghostly images of the other inside and around them invaded all of their time apart. 

Now there was more behind the way that Mark stared down at him. The contempt as vivid as the lust, and Sean was in heaven. 

"Suck, and each time I feel teeth, you will pay."

Sean lifted up his hands to Mark's zipper, and gasped as his chin was pushed up again.

"Your eyes stay on me."

With a swallow Sean fumbled to undress the other man's bottom half. His blue eyes shining as he surveyed the tanned face, lips turned upward as he heard the hiss escape the larger mouth as the pale fingers wrapped around the hardened cock and began to lick. Mark smoothly traveled from the base of Sean's throat to entangle into the waves of dark brown hair. The measured thrusts built for his pleasure with Sean just being nothing more than a vessel to fuck. The moans vibrating from around his tip to the base of his dick.

"You're such a whore for me, aren't you baby?"

Sean couldn't have answered even if wanted to. At this point he was being mouth fucked like both of their lives depended on Mark needing to come. Droplets of saliva collected in the corners of the pink lips and fell to the floor to be joined with the blood from what felt like a lifetime ago. So much of Sean was disappearing into their carpeted floor tonight, but none of that mattered right now. Let the pitiful little shit who could do nothing but cry and beg for comfort be melted into the fluids of blood and spit. Sean felt more powerful than he had felt in forever. 

With another gasp Sean's hair was pulled backwards, and Mark was on top of his body. Sean trembled at the power and didn't resist. His own clothing pulled down and pressed up to get enough skin for Mark to bite and claw. Sean's throat was clenched at once more, but this time there was the added leverage of Mark's weight closing him in. Visions became hazy as Sean began to black out, but he didn't say a word. He was already so close to release before Mark even would have a chance to fuck him raw.

"Don't you dare come before me."

Sean inhaled deeply as his neck was freed. Mark using both of his hands to work him opened. His fingers pressed inside Sean's pink rosebud of an entrance and encircling the nerves and Sean whimpered as his length twitched at feeling so full and complete already. Rug burn was steadily creeping up the small of his back and ass from the pounding of just Mark's strong arms. The rush of endorphins were making Sean see stars instead of the white coldness of their bedroom ceiling and his mouth flew opened into a sound halfway between a cry and a demand for needing more. 

"Fuck...f-fuck me, please. Need it. I'm gonna explode."

Mark shifted Sean's legs enough to place his hips inside the cavern they created, and with a growl and pinning the smaller man down like a trapped animal ready to be slaughtered, Mark swiveled his hips in a viscous circle. Sean cried out again, his cock throbbing to be touch until he painted them both.

"Your tight little asshole waited for me just like it always does," Mark purred, then biting the side of Sean's neck. Just close enough to the healing scar for a surge of electrical sting. Sean groaned, blue eyes lost in a mist of reeling sensations. His prostate was being punched again and again to the level of actual babbling as Mark enjoyed Sean unraveling into a mass of twitching limbs. Relishing the small splashes of sticky wetness that coated his stomach as he threw both of the slender legs over his shoulders and pounded from a higher angle.

"Mmmmfuck, my god. Gonna come. Please let me come."

Sean's cheeks were changing into an even pinker hue as his muscles spasmed, but with every scream he kept himself -  _somehow_  - from falling over the edge. There was a yearning need to do what Mark demanded. A pride in being the toy that Mark played with the most. Another few minutes was all the taller man needed for his calculated drives into the man below him to cause his body to let go of every bit of unbridled longing to spill all of his secrets into Sean's core. 

Mark sighed as he came, his face tilted down to watch Sean shake such a sight. Then almost as an afterthought, Mark's palm grazed Sean's dick for only a moment as he looked into the pleading face. 

"Now."

And Sean did, with a wave of such violent emotion that he was forgotten. Evaporated into the folds of much stronger arms that the spaces between them stretched out for miles and hours. Voice caught somewhere between a curse and a sob, until darkness overtook him, his body too labored to deal with the aftermath of what he and Mark were becoming. 


	12. Chapter 12

Pain and pleasure.

That's what was twisting within both of their cores as they settled into the air around them. The subtle hints of vanilla that clung to the fibers of Sean's hair, and the hint of spicy aftershave Mark wore like a shield against the contours of his sturdy jaw.

It was hard to pinpoint how long they were there on the floor of their bedroom. Sean's creamy skin rubbed red from the friction burn, and Mark pressed on top of him, head resting on the slender chest. Mark groaned, his arms tensed as he got connected with his surroundings first, then arching his back as the bones cracked. His entire body angry and bitter with what had surged through him. The dark eyes blinked to realize that Sean was not moving, other than the shallow rising and falls of his ragged breaths.

"Shit, Sean..."

Mark acted before he thought, and cradled the limp and bruised body of his lover to him. Sean's head lolled like a ragdoll onto his broad shoulder, face completely slack and eyes slightly opened. The blue gaze cloudy and unfocused.

"Baby, please...wake up."

There was no stir from the smaller frame, and Mark could sense himself already starting to cry. The tears burned as they left the corners of his eyes and trailed down, hot and heavy against his cheeks. Everything he had been trying to do to save Sean, and himself, was broken into pieces and being only held up by his arms.

Then a small grunt, and Mark lifted up Sean's chin. There was a shadow of recognition in the other set of eyes.

"Mark? Why are you crying? Was...was it not okay?"

It was only then that Mark noticed that he had been holding his breath, and he exhaled, light headed. 

"No baby, I just...you were so still after..."

Mark can't take the way that Sean was looking up at him. Such a soft and contented look, with the edges layered with confusion. Mark swallowed the rest his confession. That he had gone too far, and that he really could have hurt the best part of his life. 

He can't say it. He _won't_ say it. 

"Would you like a warm bath?" He said instead.

Sean's smile was radiant, and Mark choked back a sob. This was the person Mark fell in love with so long ago. The sweet and gentle man holding onto him like he was the only one that mattered in the world. With strained care Mark cradled Sean, still naked and rosy pink onto the bed. The kisses are gentle and slow, just how they were needed. After Mark pulled away and headed to the bathroom to start the water, his mind was already miles ahead. The elixir had made him feel so out of control, and he would have to document the effects. Perhaps after Sean had been cleaned and was resting would be best. 

"Mark? I'm cold...and I miss you."

There was such hesitance in the voice that Mark couldn't help but shudder, but there was something just under the surface of his skin that loved the tremble in the voice. The shadows of Sean hallowed out cheeks as he was on his fucking knees. 

Mark shuddered again, hating the beginning of another erection pressing the inside of his jeans. 

Sean sighed as the water flowed over his body, and his eyelids fluttered shut once he was fully submerged into the bathtub. Slowly and carefully Mark washed his body of all evidence of their time together, the flesh now a much healthier glow than before. 

Then firm fingers caressed every single part of the tender pieces of made Sean so remarkably beautiful. The quiet moans danced with the ripples and tiny splashes of water. Mark focused his entire existence on making this aftercare give apologies that his lips could not. The moans got louder, and echoed off of the tiled walls and floor. Sean's mouth slightly opened as he sunk deeper into the thrumming pressure that cascaded from the sturdy hands as they moved further down his hips to reach his pelvis and began to stroke. 

"Ohhh," he breathed, heat rising towards his cheeks and chest. The dark eyes surveyed him as he languished in each and every touch. Sean craved this just as much as being used. 

There was a wave and then a muffled cry, and Mark held onto him as he bucked. The delicate line between climax and release blurred, and then the room was silent once more. 


	13. Chapter 13

Mark wished that his typing didn't carry through the house. Even with being more than two rooms away, it seemed like every keystroke was a loud as a bomb exploding in an empty room. The tenseness of his fingers made it so much worse, and he pause to once again walk the twenty three steps from his perch on the kitchen counter back to the opened bedroom door. 

Sean was still there, and still very much asleep. His brilliant blue eyes hidden behind long brown eyelashes and delicate dreams. The pale skin littered with small technicolor bruises of his surrender and Mark's internal rage. It was too much for Mark's already heavy heart to accept, but he still allowed his guilty gaze to linger. To try to understand the soft curves of the places where he pressed thumbs and lips and teeth inside. 

Document the results. 

This was fine. The mixture was fine. It just needed more time to settle in and allow both of them to drive out the monsters who lived inside of them. Mark wasn't going to lose Sean to the darkness. Not if he could help it, and the solution was there both literally and figuratively. 

Document the results and make the proper adjustments. 

That was what was needed. Exhaustion hung around every part of Mark's body now, but it didn't matter. He needed to work while Sean was not aware, and awake the smaller man was always full of accurate and open ended questions. There was also no way for Mark to go back to the office. Not with the unsteady qualities of the results so far. 

No. Not unsteady. This would work. There was more than enough general studies to show as much, even if they were the first living specimens. 

Mark lifted up his right hand and there was proof enough. Not tremors. Nothing since they had first taken the elixir. Their rough love making was just that. Nothing to be concerned about, and Sean had loved it. Sean loved him. There was affection in their kisses in his aftercare, and that's what counted.

With one final glance back to the lump in the bed, Mark padded back to the kitchen to again type away. This time the echoes seemed softer, and he was able to concentrate on what to do next. The tea kettle whistled within a few minutes later, and after a small break of ginger tea and honey, the typing continued. 

It was only when the sun had hit the back of Mark's slouching shoulders that he had realized that morning had crept in. The yellow light blinding to his night weary eyes, and blurred the world at the edges way more than even his glasses could help. Eventually, Mark stopped and closed his laptop with a tiny click of the lid. His bones stiff and sore from sitting on the small stool as he worked for what felt like centuries. 

Sean was still blissfully snoring without even a twitch as Mark slid beside him and under the covers. The small bandages on his arms and upper thighs nothing compared to the large amount of wrappings around his scarring neck. Mark sighed, and blinked away hot tears as he placed a tender forefinger to the soft cloth against the pale throat. The image of Sean laying on the ground in what before then had been a safe place created pain in places that Mark just could not reach to soothe. So instead, he rubs gentle palms on every part of Sean that is still milky white and smooth.

At some point, Mark must have drifted off, because his eyes opened to a tickle underneath his nose. The dark hair of Sean's head tucked under his chin and mumbling something that Mark can not quite understand. A shift of dark eyes to the clock on their end table shows that it's early afternoon, and as if Sean knew that it was time to finally face the day, he stirred and woke with sleepy yawns and puffy face. 

"I missed you," Sean whispered as he lifted himself up for a kiss. 

Mark took the kiss and gave back a hug in return. 

"I missed you too, baby. More than you'll ever know."


End file.
